Stepsons Girlfriends
by Blue Zombie
Summary: Joey is alarmed to discover that he is attracted to Ashley.
1. Chapter 1

"Hi, Mr. Jeremiah," Ashley said in her seductive school girl way, and what was strange was that she was wearing one of my white button shirts and one of my striped ties, and that's all she was wearing.

"Hi," I said, kind of dazed. Her legs were long and looked so tan next to my white shirt, and she pulled on the tie so it was stretched taut, and licked her lips, and walked over to me…

I snapped awake in the pre dawn hours in my empty bed. Empty except for me. I felt the shameful guilt of dreaming about my teenage step son's girlfriend.

Downstairs I started the coffee. The sun began its golden dawn glow, and the dream wasn't fading. I could see her smooth thighs, her big blue eyes, the way she licked her lips. I shuddered.

"Craig! Angela!" Both of them didn't wake up easily. I was the one who snapped awake before the sun was up. I'd woken up early ever since Julia died. While she was sick I got such little sleep, afraid she'd die and I wouldn't be there. I could never get any deep sleep then and it wasn't much better now.

Angela came down first, hair wild and fluffy, black curls everywhere. Pajamas wrinkled and rumpled, her eyes only half open. She sat heavily in one of the kitchen chairs and rested her head on her arms.

"Hi, sweetie. Is Craig up?"

She glared at me and nodded her head slightly. I heard him on the stairs anyway. His hair, lighter than Angela's but just as curly, was wild and fluffy from sleep. Both of them with the curly hair like Julia. I remembered twirling her hair around my finger, pulling it straight and watching it spring back to a corkscrew curl.

"These curls are your best feature," I'd tell her, and she'd smile her crazy smile at me.

Craig's flannel pajama pants flapped around him, the soft and faded tee shirt he wore getting too small.

"Good morning," I said, looking up at him. He was getting tall. Albert had been pretty tall.

"Morning," he said and poured himself some coffee. He was just 15, kind of too young to be drinking coffee. But it was kind of a choose your battles thing. I didn't quite know what to do with him all the time. When I first married Julia Craig wasn't over that much, and when he was he was Julia's responsibility. And when he came to live with me last year there was always Albert in the background and the thought that he'd eventually go back to him, once Albert straightened his shit out. That sort of blew up in my face when Albert hit Craig again and crashed his car, killed himself. Then it was all up to me, no safety net. What was I supposed to do? I wanted him to not skip classes and not steal my cars and not get girls pregnant and not get into fights, so could I really complain if he drank coffee or not?

"Joey, uh, Ashley's coming over after school," Craig said, not asking but just sort of informing me.

"Sure, no problem," I sipped my coffee. Craig dumped enough sugar into his coffee to cause diabetes and enough cream to destroy most of the flavor of the coffee. I drank mine black, one sugar, like a man.

I was glad he told me that Ashley would be over because my dream was still too vivid. I could almost feel the silkiness of her skin, the smoothness of her hair. I'' stay late at the dealership, real late. Hopefully Ashley would be gone by the time I came home.


	2. Chapter 2

I sat in my darkening office at the car lot, not turning on the lights. Just letting the light fade away. I could still see how Ashley looked in my dream, the crispness of my shirt against her smooth skin, her eyes looking up at me, those big blue glassy eyes. I was hiding in this office. Hiding from a 15 year old girl. A girl who was probably having sex with my step son.

"What the hell is the matter with you, Jeremiah?" I whispered, and it sounded loud in the still office. And there was no answer.

Caitlin. I'd call Caitlin. Caitlin was cute, and my age. Sure, she didn't have the unchannelled, nearly unconscious sexual energy that Ashley had but she was perky, and funny, and…

"Goddamn it," I said in my normal speaking voice, and it sounded like a scream. I gazed at the dark blue sky and the dark shiny metal of the rows of cars, punched the numbers to Caitlin's cell phone on my big office phone.

"Hello, Caitlin Ryan," she said, and at the sound of her voice I felt bathed in guilt. It was Caitlin I should be lusting over, not some child.

"Caitlin,"

"Joey, hi,"

"Busy?"

"Actually, yes. We got this exclusive and I'll be here all night,"

"All night?"

"Probably all morning,"

"I really wanted to see you tonight," I sounded desperate, and I was.

"Oh, that's sweet. How about tomorrow?" She was flattered by the sharp note of desperation in my voice. If she only knew.

"Sure. I guess I can wait,"

She laughed.

"Don't sound so heartbroken. I'll see you tomorrow,"

I hung up and felt my way from my desk to the door. I had to go home. I prayed that Ashley would be gone.

Driving, my car gliding through the familiar Toronto streets, my hands gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles were white, my mind stubbornly stuck on Ashley, her face, her figure, her soft skin. Pulled the car along the curb, glanced at my watch. 8 p.m. She should be gone.

I noticed the flickery blue glow of the T.V. behind the curtains as I headed up the steps. Slipped the key into the lock and headed in.

Craig jumped up from the couch.

"Where have you been, Joey?" he demanded, and I felt the odd role reversal I sometimes felt with him. Who was the adult here anyway? Over his shoulder I saw Ashley sitting on the couch watching us with her calm blue eyes.

"I had a late sale. Alright?"

"Yeah, but we had to stay here all night and watch Ang and we wanted to go to that movie…"

"It's alright, Mr. Jeremiah," Ashley said, her voice smooth. She stood up and walked over to Craig, put her hands on his shoulders, "we'll just see it another time,"

I felt it sharp, like someone stabbing me, the jealousy of her touching him was sharp and I could only guess at the expression on my face.

"Well, I'm, uh, I'm sorry you missed your movie," I said, sounding scatterbrained and distracted, which I was. I was staring at her blood red fingernails as she lightly held Craig's shoulders.

Craig looked puzzled at my odd tone, but Ashley smiled a sweet little smile, as though she understood. I looked down, I looked at my shoes, I looked at my car out the window, anywhere so I wouldn't look at her.


	3. Chapter 3

And now sleep wouldn't come. I'd begged off, complained of tiredness and a headache and headed upstairs. I could hear everything. Angie's deep sleep breathing in the next room. Craig's voice, not the words but just the tone, a low murmur, and Ashley's replies.

I'd never felt more like a dirty old man, despite being just 32. But it was lifetimes away from 15, and Ashley was like some ripe piece of fruit, all filled with juices. And I felt this odd competition with Craig over Ashley's affections, but this I'd felt before. From the moment I'd met Craig I was in competition with him. He was seven when I met Julia, a happy go lucky smart little seven year old and I had to vie with him for her attention, and that was my first acquaintance with that slick, sick dirty feeling of needing to edge someone out so I could be in.

Julia. Dead four years now. In some ways four years hasn't erased her at all. I'll dream she's there, just next to me in the bed or standing at the sink drying dishes or smiling at me with her crazy grin. And I'll forget the lonely four years without her, forget the cold empty side of her bed. But in other ways she has eroded away, almost too slow to notice it, but I can't remember the exact shade of her eyes or the pitch of her voice or the sound of her laugh. Photographs don't quite capture what I remember about her, or used to remember. And there's only a set number of the photos, and the more I look at them the less I see, the less I can see. And that makes her seem even more dead, more gone.

I heard the door shut and knew she was gone but I also knew she'd be back tomorrow. And the tomorrow after that. And I couldn't hide out in my office lusting over her, closing my eyes and seeing her sweet smile, her smooth skin, her red brown hair, blood red nails and pouty lips. So jealous of Craig because he'd won this time, just by virtue of being young, being in the right place at the right time, and I couldn't edge him out.

Snapped awake at four a.m., the sky stubbornly dark, and Ashley's last dream words vibrating in my head, 'That's nice, Mr. Jeremiah,' breathy low voice and I sat up fast.

Downstairs, gold light creeping into the sky, coffee brewing with its little hisses and gurgles, Angela's footsteps on the stairs.

"Good morning," I said, and she nodded at me, squinted at me with her puffy, half asleep eyes. Then Craig came down, just as sleepy, filling a mug with coffee, and I looked at him from the corner of my eye, willing him to say he'd be going somewhere, anywhere after school. But he didn't say anything.

Once we were all in our uniforms for the day, me in a shirt and tie, Angie in a plaid skirt and pigtails, Craig in jeans and a rock tee shirt, we piled in my car and headed off.

"Oh, Joey," Craig said as we pulled up to the school, "Ashley's parents are going out of town this week, so can she come over for dinner?"

I drop Ang off first so it was just us and Craig looked younger in that jean jacket than he did in that black leather jacket, smooth young face, longish curly hair. And how did I look? Lines on my face, caught between the true youth of my 20's and the beginning of age in my 40's. Old.

"All week?" I said, hoping he didn't catch the edge of panic in my voice. But Craig was smart, and very observant, especially of me. I figured it was because of Albert, when Craig lived with him and had to try to foresee every punch and whip with the belt. He looked at me sharp, eyebrows in a sharp V. He caught it.

"Yeah. All week. Is it alright?" He caught my odd tone but couldn't interpret it. Maybe he couldn't fathom someone who had slept with his mother would also want to sleep with his girlfriend.

'Get ahold of yourself, Jeremiah,' I said sternly in my head. I was sickened by myself. I felt hot and cold.

"Yeah, no, um…sure. No, that's fine. Of course she can come over for dinner,"

He favored me with one more suspicious, puzzled glance and took off, walking in his slow slouchy way toward Ashley, who waited for him on the steps.


	4. Chapter 4

At work, third or fourth cup of coffee, jittery edgy feeling. All week? She'd be over all week? I gazed out over my car lot, customers and salesmen slowly meandering between the cars. Maybe I could, could, go have dinner with Caitlin, or Snake and Spike, or my mother…I downed the rest of my coffee, and it was filled with sugar and coffee grounds. Sludge. Shook my head. No. I couldn't do that. I had to make supper for Angie and Craig, I always did. Craig could do it, sure, but he'd just make macaroni and cheese. Ashley could probably do a better job, and maybe one night I'd bail and let them do it. But not tonight. Tonight I was stuck.

Tapped my spoon against the edge of my desk. Closed my eyes and saw her face. Ashley. Big blue eyes and little pixie nose, glossy red lips, aughh!

Drove home dreading it, dreaded seeing her and dreaded myself.

"Daddy!" I staggered a bit under Angie's enthusiastic greeting, and beyond her I saw Ashley and Craig playing X box, some game with wierdly real graphics, a big city slum and guns and the bored and jaded voice of a New York city cop over it all. They were laughing and leaning into each other.

"Hey, Joey," Craig said, not even looking at me.

"Hi, Mr. Jeremiah," Ashley said, and gazed at me with her blue eyed stare.

"Hello," I said, and cringed at the formal tone of my voice.

I started supper, shake n' bake chicken and frozen peas. Julia had been the real cook, making sauces and things with Parisian names. She had a real gourmet flair.

"Angie, go wash your hands, 'kay?" She pouted but went. I started setting the table.

"I'll be right back," Ashley said, and went after Angie. Craig let the x box controller fall to the floor, jumped up, and started rummaging through drawers and cabinets.

"What are you doing?" I said, carefully taking the pan of chicken from the stove.

"Looking for something,"

"Really, Sherlock? I can see that. What?" But by the time I'd asked that he found it, two long tapered candles and silver candle holders. He set them in the middle of the table with an authoritative bang.

"Got a lighter?" he said.

"There's matches over there,"

He struck a match while I drained the peas and touched it to the wicks. A subdued yellow orange flame flickered to life.

"Romantic, right?" he said, kind of smiling, and I noticed how really young he was, and I could see in his eyes how much he liked Ashley and I vowed to be good.

"Yeah. Yeah, it is. She'll like it,"

On cue the girls came back and Angie oohed at the candlelight. Ashley smiled, not showing her teeth, and looked sideways at Craig. He ducked his head. I was invisible.

I decided I needed a drink and cracked open a bottle of wine. It was red and not quite a match for poultry, but who gave a shit? Ashley looked nearly luminescent by the light of the candles, and I found it hard not to look at her. I wanted to offer her wine, watch her lose her inhibitions, erode away her will…

"You all right, Joey?" Craig, his voice an odd mixture of sharpness and concern, and I sipped more wine, missed Julia and ached for Ashley simultaneously.

"Yeah, yep. I'm fine,"

"Okay,"

Ashley smiled at me, white teeth showing, big blue eyes trying to hypnotize me. I was falling under a spell. Maybe it was the wine.

"This chicken is real good, Mr. Jeremiah," she said. Most of his other friends called me Joey, but Ashley always said 'Mr. Jeremiah' in her soft breathy way. It twisted my insides.

"Thank you, Ashley,"


	5. Chapter 5

I had no appetite, sickened as I was by myself. But the wine was going down nice and easy. I was starting to feel relaxed, and liked listening to the muted voices. Angie's little squeak, Craig's off key cracking voice, and Ashley's sultry murmur. I poured myself more wine. Watched as nearly in slow motion Angie spilled a full glass of wine all over Ashley, and she put her hands up and leaned forward, and Craig's eyes widened and then narrowed at his sister.

"Angie!"

She stared at Ashley and her clothes spattered with crimson like some murder victim, and I slowly looked from one to the other, watched Craig clumsily pat at her with the linen napkins, watched Angie's eyes swim with tears.

"It's okay," Ashley said, and smiled at Angela. But it wasn't okay with Craig and he continued to glare at her, her bottom lip pushed out in a pout, and she finally stood up and ran for the stairs.

"Craig," Ashely said, looking at him with mild disappointment.

"What? She's so clumsy…"

"She didn't mean it,"

Craig hung his head. Usually Ang could do no wrong, as far as he was concerned. But not when it came to Ashley, apparently. I swirled the wine in my glass, noticed how the light caught it, and watched the wine run off the table cloth in delicate red lines.

"Why don't you get her something else to wear?" I suggested, and downed the last sip of wine.

"Yeah," Craig said, and jumped up, headed upstairs. Ashley favored me with a crooked smile and followed Craig up the stairs. Alone, with my dripping tablecloth and empty glass of wine.

I assumed she would come down in one of Craig's rock tee shirts and a pair of his jeans, but she came down in one of my white button up shirts and nothing else, her tan smooth legs contrasting maddeningly with the crisp whiteness of the shirt.

"Uh, Craig, don't you have a pair of jeans she could wear? I mean, um, she must be cold," I prayed my face wasn't as red and flushed as it felt.

"Yeah, I know, but no. I sort of forgot to do the laundry the other day,"

I hung my head. I'd been having him do chores because I needed help around this place, but with schoolwork and his band he didn't always get around to it. He threw in a load to clean her clothes, and I heard the whooshing hum of the washing machine start up just as the phone rang.

"Hello?" I said, and my words were slurred. I must have drank more than I thought, or it hit me harder than I'd admit. And I prayed that it would be Caitlin calling to rescue me from this mind torture and the absolute smoothness of Ashley's thighs.

"Hi. Is Craig there?" I couldn't quite place the voice, his friends tended to sound the same on the phone.

"Yeah. Craig!" Craig came from the laundry room and I tossed him the phone. Ashley leaned against the wall, one leg up, foot flat against the wall.

"Hey, Sean," Craig said, and then his expression darkened. Ashley glanced at him, eyes wide and questioning.

"What?" Both Ashley and I watched Craig, watched his eyebrows angle sharply down, the set of his jaw.

"Do you really think…I know but…but Sean…"

He had grabbed his coat before he hung up the phone, shrugged into his cracked black leather jacket.

"Okay, Sean, yeah. I'll be right over,"

I watched him toss the phone onto the couch and go over to Ashley and kiss her, closed mouth, on the lips. She closed her eyes when he kissed her.

"Sean's in trouble. I gotta go. I'll be back in a little bit,"

"Where are you going?" I said, but it was too late. He was already out the door. So it was just me and Ashley, and her legs went on forever below my starched shirt, and I smiled at her and tried not to look.


	6. Chapter 6

So here we were. Ashley and I. It was like my dream, my white shirt, her tan and smooth legs going on forever like a dancer's. What if the dream was a premonition? It seemed to be coming true.

I smiled at her, a thin awkward smile and I felt the wine I'd drank, felt it blurring my senses, eroding my reason. It all happened so fast, the spill and the phone call and like a play everyone's exits were orchestrated, just the two main players left on the stage.

I couldn't help but notice how the dim light in the room and the twin flicker of the candles was reflected in her eyes. Couldn't help but want to reach out and caress her leg, to taste her salty skin with the lightest brush of my tongue.

"Uh, look, Ashley, I could get you a pair of my pants to wear…if you want…" I stood up, nearly knocked the chair over and watched Ashley down the last sip of her water. To be fancy Craig had given her a wine glass for her water and she held it up now, empty, and watched the play of the light on its smooth surface.

"That's okay, Mr. Jeremiah," she said, her voice as smoky and sultry as an adult's. She stood up, walked the few steps to the couch and sat down, still holding the empty wine glass.

"Could I have a glass of wine?" she said, an innocence creeping into the sultriness and I knew I shouldn't give her wine, a 15 year old child for Christ's sake, I knew I shouldn't.

"Sure," I said, and poured her a full glass, the wine a deep blood red. She brought the full glass to her lips and sipped it, and I poured myself another glass, too. Came over to the couch and sat next to her.

"So how's school?" I said, in part to remind myself that she was a school girl and to remind her that I was…well, her boyfriend's step-father. But the wine certainly was going down nice and easy and I thought nothing of it when she asked for another glass.

Craig had been gone awhile. Some crisis with Sean, there was no telling when he might return. I slid closer to Ashley and she didn't move away and I felt the tantalizing friction of her bare leg against my dress pants, watched with drunken eyes as she let her hand trail along the seam of my pants. Craig's possible return any moment only heightened the excitement and fear and we both breathed a little quicker.

"More wine?" I said, and she nodded, and wet her lips and I ached to kiss her. If I just tilted my head slightly, leaned over her and into her, if I just…

"Mr. Jeremiah?" she said, her voice so low I could barely hear it.

"Yeah?"

"Is this wrong?" she said as she tilted her head, closed her eyes and I had to lean in and kiss her, her lips as soft as I imagined. I didn't know what was wrong anymore, I'd lost whatever moral compass I had started out the night with, and I kissed her tenderly, ran one finger up her smooth thigh until I reached the edge of my crisp and starched white shirt.

I heard the car pull up outside long before I heard Craig's footsteps on the walk and I sat up and slid away from Ashley. She was breathing hard, her legs spread ever so slightly, her hair messy. I stood up and walked unsteadily toward the kitchen, spilling a few drops of my latest glass of wine. They fell like blood to the floor.

Ashley fixed her hair with her fingers but it didn't look much improved. She blinked, sat up and put her knees together, tried to look innocent again despite the hectic spots of color high on her cheeks.

"Hey," Craig said, striding in, tossing his jacket onto the chair, "Sean is a total mess, he's-" He stopped talking mid-sentence and looked at Ashley all disheveled on the couch, and me lurking like a fugitive in the kitchen. He looked from her to me and for one split second I was sure he was going to deck me, and he'd be within his rights. I'd take the punch.

"Ashley, are you drinking?" he said, looking at her intently.

"Yeah,"

He looked at me, narrowed his eyes, maybe he noticed that my tie was askew, or maybe he noticed Ashley's lipstick on my lips.

"Joey, you're letting her drink?"

"It was just a glass of wine, Craig. You can have one, too, if you want,"

He looked mad but almost like he didn't know what to be mad about. Ashley looked down, her blue eyes fixed on a spot between her feet. I wasn't quite sure if he should drink or not, it might make him realize just what it was he was missing.

He didn't say he wanted the wine, or didn't want it, he didn't do anything but stand there, his expression darkening like Albert's had the handful of times I ever saw him. I could hide it, I'd hid infidelity before, but Ashley was falling apart right there on the couch, she wouldn't look at him or me. He'd get it in a second, he'd put two and two together. Then what? I pleaded with Julia's ghost in my head. 'Julia, what do I do if your son figures out I kissed his girlfriend?' Julia was silent, as she had been for the last four years.

"Here," I said, pouring him some wine, steering him to the other seat in the room. He let me maneuver him, taking the wine and sipping it, "now tell us what happened with Sean," I finished. Ashley looked up, relieved that I was taking control. I wasn't proud of myself, fooling a 15 year old kid that I was supposed to be raising, protecting, teaching, all of that. I wanted to hang my head in my new shame but I couldn't, I looked at him steadily, willing him to drink the wine, to focus on Sean and not on me, not on Ashley's guilt ridden stricken look she was slowly losing.

One more suspicious glance and he sipped more of the wine, and kids don't realize how fast wine can hit you. He was relaxing, losing that watchful look, and I breathed easier. Ashley nearly had her innocent little mask plastered back together, and she smiled at him, her little smile with no teeth.

He started talking about Sean and I glanced at Ashley, and her eyes flickered over to me for just a second. Craig kept talking, using his hands, getting into his story, and I poured him some more wine when he wasn't even looking. I breathed a shaky sigh of relief. We were out of the woods.


End file.
